Steven Erikson - Forge of Darkness

The triumphs ahead, at the end of this cobbled road, shone with a sceptre’s light, raised high as a torch in the darkness. Flames closed the mouth of my leg — that horrid stump — seared it for ever shut, trapping the howls inside me. I will let them out another way.

By sceptre’s light, this I vow.

Mounted soldiers were gathering below, emerging from the village. It seemed he would not have to walk all the way after all.

They saw a rider ahead of them on the road. The horse was walking and the figure was slumped as if half asleep in the saddle. Their two scouts had reined in halfway between the parties and now faced Cryl and his troop of Houseblades.

Beside Cryl, Sergeant Agalas grunted and then said, ‘No uniform.’

‘We’ll question him.’

The scouts fell in as they continued on.

The man looked up as they cantered closer, as if startled awake. His face was badly bruised and its bones poorly knitted from what must have been a savage beating. One eye was shot with red. Dirt stained his clothes, as did blackened spots of dried blood. He halted his horse.

Agalas gestured and the troop drew up and formed a line behind her and Cryl. The two of them then rode forward to rein in before the stranger.

‘You’ve seen some trouble,’ said Cryl.

The man shrugged. ‘I lived.’

Agalas spoke. ‘Have you seen soldiers of the Legion on this road?’

‘Urusander’s Legion or the Hust Legion?’

Cryl blinked. ‘Hust? No, Urusander’s, sir.’

The man shook his head. ‘Seen no one and been riding all day.’

‘Riding where?’ Agalas asked.

‘Kharkanas. Thought I might hire on. Did some caravan guarding once, might do it again. The country’s unruly these days.’

Agalas seemed annoyed with this response. ‘Where did you come down from?’

‘Riven Keep. Thought to try the Borderswords, but they wasn’t looking to take anyone on, now that peace has come.’

‘That’s a long journey,’ Cryl observed.

The man nodded. ‘Sorry I can’t help you. Of course,’ he added, ‘if there was soldiers about, there’d be less trouble on the roads.’

Cryl turned to the sergeant. ‘Let’s go. We’ll see what we see.’ To the stranger he said, ‘There’s an armed procession ahead of you. You’d be safe enough near to them if you rode a little quicker, sir.’

‘Thank you,’ the man replied. ‘That’s a decent offer.’

Agalas waved the Houseblades forward and they all rode past the stranger.

‘That wasn’t much help,’ Cryl said as they continued on up the road.

‘Sorry, sir,’ said Agalas, ‘but I’m not buying it.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean, sir, he wasn’t quite right. Not sure.’

‘I could see him as a caravan guard.’

She nodded. ‘But his horse was a damned good animal, well groomed and well fed, and the tack was clean.’

Cryl considered. ‘Any man long on the road would do well to take care of his mount and tack.’

‘As to that, sir, he wasn’t carrying much gear. I don’t know, is all I’m saying.’

‘Wonder who gave him that beating. He was armed, after all.’

She shot him a look and then reined in hard. The Houseblades veered past her, drawing up in confusion. Cryl halted his own horse and swung round to face the sergeant. ‘What is it?’

‘His sword, sir. It was Legion issue.’

Cryl frowned. ‘Hardly surprising — those weapons must have flooded the market stalls after the disbanding.’

‘You’d think so, sir, but they didn’t. Maybe you heard different, but I’m saying they didn’t. Soldiers kept their gear.’

‘No, I believe you. I only assumed.’ He looked back down the road but the stranger was already out of sight. ‘So he’s ex-Legion. Might be riding to join up with a renegade troop-’

‘Sir, we went with the Lord this morning. We saw the Deniers, that village, it was a place of slaughter. The killers just cut ’em all down. Children too. It was butchery.’

‘So what was he, then?’ Cryl asked. ‘A scout? If so, he was coming from the wrong direction and heading the wrong way.’

‘I don’t know, sir. I don’t know what to think, but it feels all wrong here. All of it.’

He studied her weathered face, the flat eyes. If she was in an excited state, he’d not know it from looking at her. ‘Sergeant, a word alone, please.’

They rode on ahead and then reined in again.

‘Sir?’

‘I don’t know what to do,’ Cryl confessed. ‘Lord Jaen commanded us to return to Enes House. He fears for his household. If that lone rider’s a scout, then the renegades must be somewhere ahead and that would mean that they’d already hit the estate — assuming they were planning on doing so. But I see no dust above the way ahead, and we’re not close enough to see smoke if they attacked the Lord’s house.’

She said nothing, watching him, her gloved hands folded on the saddle horn.

‘But they wouldn’t attack a wedding procession,’ Cryl said.

‘We need to keep an eye on the road, sir. Study the tracks ahead. Lone rider or lots of riders? Headed which way? Problem is, sir, there’s trails through the forest, some of ’em running parallel with this road.’

‘Is this your suggestion, sergeant?’

‘We can reach Enes House before dusk, sir.’

‘They wouldn’t attack a wedding procession,’ Cryl said again. ‘Deniers — well, you’ve seen the proof of that.’ Still he hesitated. Lord Jaen had promoted him, given him this command, and the orders were explicit. Return to Enes House. Muster the full garrison of Houseblades. Prepare for an attack. ‘Abyss below, one lone stranger on the road and suddenly nothing is clear!’

‘I told you he was wrong, sir. And he is. All wrong.’

‘That beating was days old-’

‘More like a week, sir, or even two. That wasn’t swelling, just dead nerves.’

Cryl fidgeted, hating himself, hating his indecision. Lord Jaen had but eight Houseblades in that train. ‘I don’t know what to do,’ he said again.

She frowned. ‘Sir, you got your orders. Lord Jaen rides to a gathering of highborn.’

‘And no one would dare attack a wedding procession.’

‘Unless they’ve lost their minds. Sir, it’s all down to that rider.’

‘Should we ride back and question him?’

‘If you give me leave, sir, me and two of my Houseblades will do just that. If I have to, I’ll ask my questions with the point of my knife. Why’s he riding south? That’s the key to it all. It don’t make sense.’

‘Take two with the strongest mounts, sergeant, and waste no time,’ Cryl commanded. ‘We will continue on and you ride to catch us up — or you send one rider and take yourself and the other to Lord Jaen, if — well, if it’s necessary. No, wait, take four, not two.’

‘Yes sir. We shouldn’t be long.’

‘If he’s an innocent, I feel for him,’ Cryl said.

‘If he’s an innocent,’ Agalas replied, ‘his run of bad luck ain’t ending soon.’

They rode back. Cryl watched the sergeant select four Houseblades and set off at a gallop. He eyed the eight who remained. She’d left him Corporal Rees, a round-faced veteran with a caustic sense of humour, but there was little amusement in the man’s visage today. ‘Corporal Rees, I’ll have you ride at my side.’

‘Send scouts ahead, sir?’

‘Yes. But we will now ride without rest.’

‘Understood, sir,’ Rees replied. ‘Don’t worry about the sergeant, sir — she’ll get the bastard to talk.’

‘I hope so.’

‘Agalas’s been on the other end of torture, sir.’

‘She has?’

Rees nodded severely. ‘I got drunk one night and cornered her. Told her my whole life story, sir. But she survived. Most of her sanity intact, too.’